


Lost in the Flood

by southsidesister



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cheating, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Infidelity, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:55:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26678566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/southsidesister/pseuds/southsidesister
Summary: Set in season 5, Donna and Harvey are having dinner at Del Posto where she tells him about the guy she's been seeing for the past six weeks. Harvey finds himself at a crossroads when said guy turns out to be dating other people as well and Donna turns to him for comfort. Pre-canon. One-shot. Non-graphic, M-rated content.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	Lost in the Flood

···

**Lost in the Flood**

°•.•°

She's seeing someone. Of course she is. And with some quick math, Harvey realizes she started dating Mitchell not long after she left his desk; right around the time he told her he loved her and she told him the same, and instead of the revelation being something beautiful, his whole goddamn world had crumbled. _This isn't working for me anymore._

As she talks about the guy, he notices her eyes lighting up, and he habitually tells her he's happy for her. And on some level, he really is. Her happiness will always be more important than his own, but, as before, it hurts to know she's moving on, leaving him with nothing, while another man gets to hold her at night. Then she lectures him about sleeping with Esther Litt, and for a split second, he thinks their fragile friendship is about to shatter all over again. But unlike her usual tenacity keeping her from heeding his warnings, Donna backs off when he respectfully suggests she mind her own business, and they continue with their meals as if the spat never happened.

Tonight was a step in the right direction. And yet, when they gather their coats and get ready to leave the restaurant, he's hit by a slew of mixed feelings. Yes, they had dinner again and chatted like old friends, filling his cautious heart with joy, but there remains a divide they haven't bridged. But when her eyes twinkle as he helps her into her overcoat, joy momentarily triumphs, because he hasn't lost her like he thought he had—only in the all too familiar way of her dating somebody else.

The spring air in New York isn't as crisp as he wished, a tepid breeze unhelpful in clearing his mind from the unease he fosters beneath a smile.

 _Mitchell_. Did he have a last name? What did he do again? He was funny and smart, she said. Did that make him good enough for her? Was anybody? The guy wasn't a lawyer. Maybe that's what drew her to him—someone who was not like him.

"Mitchell?"

Harvey looks up in surprise. Had he spoken out loud? He feels his cheeks flush, scrambling to come up with an excuse, but Donna isn't focused on him. Instead, she stares at a dark-haired individual who is untangling himself from whom Harvey gathers is his date. There's a smudge of lipstick on his mouth which he tries to wipe away and suddenly things click.

"What's going on?" Donna asks.

"Donna. I'm… we're…" the guy stumbles, obviously drunk, a thin, blonde twenty-something draped all over him as they stagger, trying to stay upright.

"I think it's pretty clear what you were doing. We're done."

With a look of anguish on her face, Donna tries to move along, but with an outstretched arm, he stops her.

"You're breaking up with me?" he scoffs.

"I sure as hell am. Come on, Harvey. Let's go."

Harvey measures the situation and although he wants to punch the guy's lights out, he considers the stern warning emanating from Donna's furious demeanor.

They are about to walk away when Mitchell's voice squawks in the night. "Yeah, well, looks like you were having a good time, too."

In his pockets, Harvey clenches his fists, counting to ten. This isn't his battle to fight, but the bastard is making it pretty goddamn hard for him to keep his knuckles to himself, but unless Donna engages the man, he's happy to walk away. He'll personally see to it Mitchell's life is made miserable, if he ever runs into his ugly mug again.

But Donna pivots around as Harvey counts on, feeling his chances of an altercation increase by the second. Unsurprisingly, Mitchell remains oblivious, and instead laughs, whispering something in the blonde's ear, who giggles in reply.

"I was having dinner with a friend. I told you about that," Donna spits, her shoulders tight and, from the looks of it, equally ready for battle.

"A friend, huh?" Mitchell dares, a wicked smirk forming on his face. "You fuck all your friends?" he laughs, turning his attention to his companion, who laughs with him.

With a surge, Harvey lunges forward and grabs the guy by his jacket, ramming him against the bricks with a thud. "Now you listen to me. You talk to her like that again, and I will put your head through this wall. You got that?"

Big eyes look back at him, but Mitchell's alcohol intake fuels his brazenness even though he's struggling to get air into his lungs. "Calm down. It's not like we were exclusive."

"Yeah? That's not what she told me. But I guess the jokes on you because you just passed on an amazing woman. _Any_ guy would be lucky to have her, but you sure as hell don't deserve her. So, get the hell out of my sight before I do something I might regret." Reluctantly and with a shove for good measure, Harvey releases the lapels and steps back enough so Asshole has to squeeze his way out.

Somehow, Mitchell has the audacity to straighten his jacket and brush off his sleeve, then smirks. "You can have her." Smiling broadly, as if his current date is far more captivating, he wraps his arm around the woman and they both wobble off.

Harvey's blood boils and he fights to keep himself from still using the guy's skull as a wrecking ball, but his gaze falls to Donna standing to the side, clutching herself, and he moves toward her. "Are you okay?"

She shakes her head. "I'll be fine."

Every fiber of his being wants to pull her into a hug, but they don't do the physical comfort thing, so instead, he only strokes her arm in a no-less unusual gesture. "I'm so sorry. That guy was a jerk." Scanning her features, he waits a beat, then says, "You wanna go back inside, have another drink?"

"No, I just wanna go home," she replies, shifting her weight uncomfortably.

"Alright. I'll walk you."

···

"I really thought this one had potential," she states mournfully as they near her building.

When Harvey is silent for too long, she glances up at him and finds the question written in the fretted lines on his face.

"You want to know why I didn't see it coming? I'm _Donna_ , right? I should know," she says regretfully, with a hint of embarrassment thrown in. He doesn't say a word, but he doesn't have to. "For the same reason I didn't know Stephen Huntley was a murderer. I guess I just didn't want to see it. When it comes to romantic relationships, my radar can be… off. I think the problem is that I see people's potential." She briefly meets his eyes, but quickly averts them again. "But they are not always capable or ready to live up to it. I just sometimes hope they will." And perhaps coax them along the way, but that knowledge she keeps to herself.

In the ensuing silence, she can hear the question ' _Like me?'_ form in his thoughts, but he doesn't voice the inquiry and she won't breach the subject. Not tonight. Not when their friendship is barely getting back on track. Especially since her answer would likely have been, 'Yes, exactly like you.'

She's hurt, though. Mortified, she let this happen. Humiliated that it happened in public while once again being accused of sleeping with Harvey when that is the farthest thing from the truth. Her heart is bruised, and right now, she doesn't want to be alone. So, when they stand in front of her building's entrance, she ignores the gazillion alarm bells going off and asks, "Would you like a drink?"

Debating the question, Harvey hesitates, and she can't blame him. The last time he was at her place, she all but told him she wanted him to stay. And things only escalated from there. Despite everything that has happened in the meantime, she isn't confident she feels any differently now. But she's positive they've moved past whatever transpired that night, no matter how ambiguous their feelings remain to be. They are _friends_ , and she needs a friend right now, she reasons.

"Please?"

A complying smile forms on his lips and he nods. "Sure."

Five minutes later, they are back on her couch, wine glasses in hand, and she takes a sip of her second glass, her first one downed in three big gulps to extinguish the unrelenting adrenaline. The light buzz tingling around her brain is a welcome relaxant, and she eases into the cushions with her legs tucked under her.

If she were by herself, she'd have a sob-fest—party of one—with the bottle of Merlot and a really shitty Renee Zellweger romcom. Because she's back in the land of single women. The Harvey-sized emptiness in her heart had only just begun flooding; with Mitchell a good enough interruption to her solitary existence, but she barely got the chance to get used to the distraction. Because now he's gone. She's alone again. And with no warm body to sway her away from a decade-old, festering hunger, her current company, once more, poses a potential risk.

"Thanks for doing this."

"Of course." Harvey twirls the glass in his hand. "So, where did you meet this guy, anyway?"

Donna huffs and rolls her eyes. "Rachel suggested I go on this dating site. Said I needed to put myself out there more. I think she was just trying to distract me."

"Ah." Judging by the pained look on his face, he doesn't need an explanation why. "I guess it's been a rough few months on all of us."

"What do you mean? Is something going on?"

For a while, he contemplates telling her about his panic attacks, but thinks better of it. He sees no use in worrying her. But he must have, because she sits forward and slides closer to him until her leg gently brushes his.

"Harvey?"

He meets her eyes and the concern in them fires up his insides. Even after all that has happened—the collapse of their unity, the angry words spoken between them—she still cares about him. And the compassion prompts him to want to be a better man. However, a better man is a strong man. So, he decides to hide the truth, not willing to show his deficiencies, or worse, have her think she is to blame. "It's nothing," he lies, hoping his reassuring tone will pacify her.

Donna studies his face, the distress of the past weeks visible in the slightly deeper lines around his eyes. Their falling out had been brutal and she isn't the least bit surprised he's struggled with the new status quo, somehow even relieved, because it shows he actually gives a shit. But that's also the problem; his words and actions are miles apart. _I said it because I love you and I wanted you to know it._ Right. A lot of good that did.

"Did you really mean what you said?" she asks, her sight falling somewhere between them, unseeing.

"When?"

She lifts her gaze. "Earlier, to Mitchell."

As their eyes lock, the depth of pain is impossible to miss and Harvey's heart breaks. Tonight, she got hurt because she sees the good in people. She got hurt because he couldn't give her what she needed when she asked him for more. But this he can give her. "Every word."

Sitting beside him, the near whisper echoing through the space, Donna's stomach churns. It's obvious he loves her and yet, there's a wall between them that makes the Chinese one dwarf in comparison.

_But with you, it's different._

A new silence erupts, and she is hurled backwards in time. What if she had stopped him from leaving that night? What if she had kissed him when she'd had the chance? The alternate possibilities and outcome had haunted her dreams for weeks afterward. Even when Mitchell's arms had held her close, she'd imagined multiple scenarios where Harvey had been the one to cradle her in the aftermath of their lovemaking.

 _It would have been a mistake, and you know it._ He'd stated his views in no uncertain terms. But she's so goddamned tired of doing the right thing, of living by rules she no longer feels are beneficial, particularly because, that night, his desire had been just as compelling as her own.

Looking at him now, she knows he's considering making a run for it again. So, she places her drink on the coffee table, rests a palm on his knee and when he doesn't object, kisses his lips softly.

Harvey stiffens, clutching the wine glass until it's over and Donna's delicious lips retreat. In her eyes, he sees a familiar flicker of hope, and although he had sworn never to cross that line again, he failed to do so. What's worse, now he's afraid that if he leaves, they're right back where they started from, and that's the last thing he wants. Besides, part of him wants to reciprocate the kiss so badly, the ache alone is making him dizzy. But he sits there, unmoving, trapped by his own apprehension.

Donna stares at his paralyzed form, his face expressionless, and he might as well have punched her in the gut. "Wow." She huffs, incredulously. "Two rejections in one night. I must be losing my touch." Fluidly, she stands, grabs her drink, and swallows what's left in a single pull.

Feeling his exit will be requested soon, Harvey gets to his feet. "Donna…." he starts, but words fail him. She's so close, he can almost feel the warmth emanating from her body.

"No, Harvey. You say all these things about me, how I'm a catch and any guy would be lucky to have me." Her voice breaks and she pauses. "Last time you were here you told me you _loved_ me, yet you won't touch me with a ten-foot pole." Shaking her head, she scoffs. "We set that room on fire!" she says, pointing to the bedroom, her fiery eyes lined with not only fury, but a hint of desperation as well. "So, I know it's not that. I just don't know what to think anymore, Harvey."

Her left eye twitches nervously, fighting hard to keep the building tears from flowing. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realizes this would be the point where one of them put some actual distance between their bodies, but they stay frozen in close proximity, and the stand-off bolts her to the floor—almost daring him to leave.

"I don't know what you want me to say," he mutters.

"You can say I'm not crazy. That it's not just all in my head. But I know you won't, so…" Her arms flail on their own volition, equally frustrated like the rest of her, and she resigns involuntarily. Annoyed, she grabs his drink from where he left it on the table and marches to the kitchen where she empties the wine in the sink and rinses out both glasses.

She dries her hands and rests her palms on the counter, dropping her head between them for a moment. Her tears are not for him to see, and so she fights the build-up in her eyes until she's sure she can face him again. Then she turns around.

From the living room, his soft voice thunders. "Do you want me to leave?"

"I want you to kiss me, but we both know that's not gonna happen, so I'm going to bed. Stay. Leave. I don't care. I'm done."

···

The door to her bedroom slams shut, like the thing is mad at him too, and after a good few minutes of glancing down the hallway, Harvey shakes himself out of his reverie and sinks back onto the couch.

He has a decision to make with two simple options: stay or go. Donna has spelled out for him which choice she prefers, but he has to weigh them both, because they each have potentially lasting consequences. What if she only kissed him because she was feeling sorry for herself? As he formulates the thought, he is hit with the conviction she'd never do that. He may have ignored her lingering glances over the years, the flirting, the double-entendres, the palpable changes in air whenever they were close or when she made some excuse to touch him. But they were there, whispering her desire for him, even though she always acted indifferently. Plus, she'd been right to force him to forget about the night they'd spent, because if he'd allowed himself to want her, he wouldn't be where he is today. She is the sole reason the 'S' in PSL stands for Specter, and he goddamn knows it. Not that his resolve hadn't faltered on occasion, and Lord knows, if in the past he had looked closely at his feelings for her, he'd have found a truth he is still ill-equipped to handle.

Recently, he was not so gently reminded by his therapist that he has plenty of issues that will keep him from having real relationships, and no matter how much he wishes Dr. Agard were wrong, she isn't. So, he's stuck, as flashes of strawberries and whipped cream—images he had long ago banished from his memory—enter his mind. If anything, one thing is clear: last time he left and that nearly killed him. Perhaps tonight, he's been granted a second chance.

"Donna," he whispers as he pushes open her bedroom door, the hinges creaking loudly in the silence.

He hears her sniffle, and because he knows which side of the bed she prefers, he knows it's _her_ side of the bed her voice comes from when she utters, "What."

It's not exactly an invitation, and he hesitates for what feels like eons. Then he takes a deep breath and steps over the threshold, his eyes adjusting to the pitch-black room as he saunters over to the chair beside the window.

Before he can change his mind, he swiftly unbuckles his belt.

For a moment, Donna freezes, the sound unmistakable in the silence, but she promptly recovers, peering over her shoulder. "What are you doing?" The darkness makes her squint, but is unhelpful in making her see. Luckily, her other senses are on high alert, and she hears him place the abandoned pants over the lounger. The rustling of cotton is next, and she watches his shirt come off and she tries hard to remember if he wore anything underneath.

The bed dips down and in two heartbeats his body is flush against hers, his t-shirt-clad torso warm against her back while his legs tentatively brush her delicate skin. Softly, he buries his nose in her manes, his arm draped over her, seeking out her hand. "I don't want to leave."

Without thinking, she nervously links her fingers with his, terrified to hope that this means more than it does. "Harvey. What are you doing?" she repeats, afraid to move, frightened the movement will cause the moment to burst, like a bubble hitting barbed wire.

Donna waits for his reply, but he doesn't, and she rolls onto her back, wet lashes sticking together as she meets his hooded gaze.

Even in the dark, Donna can tell he's alarmed to see her upset. But without hesitation, he wipes the tears from her cheeks, taking his time, like her features are something to revere.

The gentle caresses are out of character, and her self-consciousness flares to the point where she wants him to stop, the intimacy too much to handle with an affirmation about his true intentions lacking.

She almost speaks, but he beats her to it.

"I'm afraid I'll screw this up," he whispers, fingers gently caressing her skin.

Her chest cavity expands as hope begins to chisel down the fortification around her heart. "What makes you think I'll let you?"

He stares at her, the blend of gratitude and surprise coursing through his veins no doubt showing on his face. The vigilant gaze he receives in return is laced with faith and fear, but faith propels him forward and he lowers himself until he captures her lips. Fear, his own and hers, can be addressed later. So, he lets her deepen the kiss, their hands finding each other anew, and he holds on tight.

"I can't lose you again," he whispers between kisses.

"You won't."

The reassurance is the last push he needs to mount her fully and settle between her legs, their bodies in perfect sync. As their breaths mingle, he brushes their noses together, still afraid to go all in. "Promise?"

"Promise," she murmurs hoarsely.

The gentleness of the moment is rapidly replaced with roaming hands, exploring tongues, and scraping nails, and before long, they are naked and writhing beneath the sheets. Nimble fingers poke, prod, and pump until neither can stand the wait any longer and Harvey sinks himself inside of her welcoming walls. Their current union contrasts the other time like the sun does the moon. Although he supposes he loved her then too, being with her now is a level of attachment he hasn't experienced before, and suddenly he's far more self-conscious than he wants to be. But instead of struggling with the discomfort, he lets the sensation—and her faith–guide him, directed by her body's response.

Donna notices. Of course she does. Because she cups his face, holding his gaze until he practically stops all movement, lost in her eyes.

"Hi," she smiles.

He grins in return. "Hi."

The breather was everything he needed, and he pushes himself up, shifts her hips and pulls her legs over his shoulders, then smirks as he enters her from this angle.

Harvey watches her face contort with pleasure, her perfect breasts bouncing with every subsequent thrust.

"You remembe—ahh!" she moans when he shifts them again.

"A few things about our first time stuck," he manages to say before a fresh wave of erotic delight ripples through him and his eyes squeeze shut in response.

She quirks an eyebrow. "A few things?"

In need of a break before this—or he—finishes prematurely, Harvey lowers himself until his face is less than an inch away from hers. "Everything." The rumble comes from deep within his soul, and his lips crash down over her mouth, too desperate and too overwhelmed with so much he can't yet name. So instead, he focuses on driving her to the brink of sanity, sliding in and out of her core with increasing speed.

"God, you still feel so good," he mumbles, his breath just below her ear.

"So do you," she moans in response, raking sharp nails over his scalp and mauling the surface when he sheaths himself deeper into her heat.

His face keeps busy nuzzling her neck and he builds up another rhythm until the pressure in his abdomen reaches its boiling point and he feels her clench around him. Donna whimpers his name between fucks and yesses and fasters, and it's the most encouraging thing he's ever heard, inciting a profound desire to give her exactly what she wants. For the rest of his life.

···

"I've thought about it," he says, as they lay in a mess of tangled limbs and sweaty skins, bodies spent yet exhilarated.

Sprawled half over his glorious torso, Donna traces a lazy pattern on his warm but cooling surface. "About what?"

"You asked me how I love you, and I didn't have an answer, and I still don't."

She glances up to meet his eyes. "But you've thought about it."

"Yeah. But it's impossible to describe. You are _everything_ to me, Donna. You have been from the moment I met you. And that's probably why I'm so damned afraid of losing you."

"That's a pretty good description, if you ask me," she beams, a mesh of surprise and elation coating her words. In response, he leans down to brush her lips briefly before she settles over his chest again, smiling. "And for the record, I'm scared, too."

"You are?"

"Of course, I am. I don't want to lose you, either. Walking away from your desk was the hardest thing I've ever done, even if it was the right decision." She finds his eyes. "But I never meant to hurt you. You know that, right?"

He nods. "I do."

"Because I meant what I said," she murmurs, her hand traveling up to rest on the rough surface of his cheek.

"What?"

"I love you, Harvey."

The room lights up with his smile, although there's not a burning lightbulb in sight. Still, the illumination reaches her heart when he says, "I love you, too."

···

Harvey wakes to daylight spilling in through the curtains. And an empty bed. The minute his consciousness returns, he is hit from all sides with _her_ scent, and memories of what they were doing a few hours ago make his dick twitch in response. Over on the chair, his phone buzzes in his pants' pocket, and he grumbles at the knowledge this is just a regular Thursday. Except for his world having spun on its axis, changing everything.

So, he takes a moment to decipher the text message but manages to understand Gretchen informing him his nine o'clock has been moved to eight-thirty. A quick look at the top of the screen tells him he has an hour to get to the office, and no matter how much he wishes he could stay in bed with her all day, duty calls, and he heads for the bathroom.

A short while later, after a hurried shower, he wanders into the kitchen. Donna is barefoot, a white dress with black floral stitching hugging her frame. She has her back to him, nose buried in her phone. Judging by the smell, the beverage she is lazily stirring is a cup of coffee, and he could definitely use a shot of caffeine himself after their nightly activities.

Still unaware he is standing behind her, he wraps her up and inhales deeply. Under his touch, he can feel her tense for a moment, but she recovers at once, melting into his embrace.

Harvey hums softly. "So, last night wasn't a dream."

"It wasn't," she purrs and slowly turns to face him. Draping her arms around his neck, Donna searches for his lips and is met halfway.

A mixture of coffee, vanilla, and toothpaste transfers onto his taste buds, lined with a whiff of her perfume tingling his sinuses, and in that moment, Harvey sees his entire future flash before his eyes, like a reverse near-death experience where the ending is only the beginning. Every one of his burdens falls away until he's stripped to the core and all that matters is the love he feels fueling his existence. "Good. Because it was the best night of my life."

Donna pulls back an additional inch, measuring his expression. His vulnerability startled her and tears spring to her eyes as her reality finally morphs into what she always knew it could be. So, she chews on her lip and nods. "Mine too."

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Prompt by darvey_dh on Twitter. So yeah, this last scene made me miss my exit when I was envisioning them cuddling in her kitchen, but I guess it was worth it. :) Big thanks to my betas Nina, Cassie and Blue! Your feedback is always a tremendous help and I am forever grateful. Please let me know what you think, by leaving a quick review. It's always so very much appreciated. :)


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